


A Combination That Works Like A Charm

by doorwaytoparadise



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Friends to Lovers, M/M, Singing and dancing and general nonsense involved with musical theater, The rest of the cast and crew ship them but they're stubborn idiots, Unresolved Sexual Tension, they get there eventually
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-05
Updated: 2016-06-28
Packaged: 2018-07-12 09:20:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7096510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doorwaytoparadise/pseuds/doorwaytoparadise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A few months of break for MJN lead to Douglas auditioning for a local production of the musical La Cage Aux Folles. Unbeknownst to him, Martin does as well. They end up cast as the leading roles, and as rehearsals commence and the production goes underway, the tension and closeness between them grows, and everyone is left wondering if their stage relationship will become the real thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Overture

**Author's Note:**

> This came about because I'm currently working backstage on a production of this musical, and also Roger Allam. I blame him, honestly.

It had been a long time since Douglas had stepped onto a stage. Years of just casual performing, idly singing to himself, and tinkering around with random pianos meant he had had to work hard to prepare for the first audition he'd been to in a long time. He had first heard of the casting call a month or so back, and had used the time to work his vocals back up to professional quality, and reestablish his full range. 

MJN was currently on a several month hiatus due to a combination of mechanical repairs on GERTI and construction at Fitton airfield. Thankfully, the mechanical repairs were due to the lucky discovery of literal gold in the aircraft's wiring, that led to an increase in the immediate finances of all four members of the company, so they could afford to take the break while the gold was removed. They had all split off to do their own things for the time being, and Douglas figured it'd be fun to try for a show at the local theater.

He waited in the lobby, absently scanning his sheet music, though he didn't need to, and half-listened to the mutters and low singing of the other people around him. Despite the tension in the room, the nervous anticipation, he felt at home. He had missed this.

Soon enough, they called his name, and as he was waved into the theater, he felt the first flutter of nerves, but pushed them away. He was Douglas Richardson, and he had certainly practiced enough, he'd be fine. The director looked up in readiness, and Douglas nodded to the accompanist. The music began and he let the old familiar tune of 'Stars' from _Les Miserables_ surround him. Sixteen bars and a small selection of dialogue later, and he was walking out of the building feeling pleased. Whether he got the role or not, he was happy with his performance, proof that he still had it after all these years.

A week later, and the cast list was sent out. No callbacks necessary, as Fitton was small enough, and the number of auditionees hadn't been all that numerous. Douglas opened up the email, scanning the director's greeting, and scrolled down with anticipation. The first name on the list appeared, and Douglas smiled. He had gotten the role, the lead was his, and soon enough, he'd be stepping on stage as Albin.

He scanned the rest of the cast list, curious if he knew anyone he'd be working with, and especially who would be his fellow lead. He read the name and paused. He read it again. There, beneath his own name, it was printed:

' _Georges - Martin Crieff_ '

Douglas sat back in his chair, a little bit shocked, but a little bit delighted, because who knew?

=

The first day of rehearsal came, and Douglas headed to the theater, eager to begin. Performing always gave him a high, and the role was going to be both challenging and enjoyable. The character was very different from himself, after all, and he looked forward to seeing Martin play the role he had been cast as, as well.

The actors all gathered in the green room, awkwardly smiling and introducing themselves. Douglas politely greeted the rest of the cast, shaking hands and smiling, and noting who was playing who. It was when the ensemble member he was talking to went to greet the next person, that Douglas stood straighter, for there was Martin. 

He looked the same as ever, though it was a bit odd seeing him out of uniform, and it seemed like he was moving with a bit more confidence than usual. Douglas supposed landing a lead role had something to do with that. Martin stepped toward him, and face to face, they came, neither saying a word. The silence stretched for a bit, before Douglas raised a questioning eyebrow and Martin gave a sheepish smile.

“Surprise?”

“Yes,” Douglas drawled, amused, “you're apparently full of them, captain.”

Martin dipped his head, grinning, apparently pleased to have managed to surprise Douglas. The conversation would've continued, but the director chose that moment to enter the room. Calling for their attention, he stood before the loose semi-circle of actors. He grinned and made a sweeping gesture with his arms.

“Welcome...to La Cage Aux Folles.”


	2. We Are What We Are

The first rehearsal was just a read-through, to get a feel for the script without any of the music. They were getting to know each other as a cast, and getting used to the interactions between their characters. The show was truly great, in Martin's opinion, and he very much liked his character.

La Cage Aux Folles was a brilliant story of family, love, and being true to one's self. Centering around the main couple of Albin and Georges, who were an actual established gay couple clearly still in love, and branching out to the supportive community around them, Martin thought it was an amazing piece of writing to be so positive. The sheer optimism of the story about a gay couple was a moving and thrilling thing to not only see, but be a part of. As someone who had been seeking representation in media ever since he had known his own orientation, Martin just adored the show. When the show had first come out, the idea of a community rallying around and supporting a gay couple, like how it was portrayed here, was a fantasy. There were some places where it still was, but the world had changed and grown and improved and Martin felt so blessed to be able to do this show here and now. 

The fact that it was a comedy, but the gayness wasn't the punchline, made it even sweeter. Albin was a drag queen, and some of his mannerisms were a bit played for laughs, but he was never portrayed as someone to laugh at. Georges, his own character, ran a night club with Albin as the star, and they had a son, straight and getting married. Wanting to impress his future in-laws, the son, Jean-Michel, asks Georges to pretend to be straight for one night, and Albin to not be there. The resulting drama from that, followed by the fiancee's family arriving, made for a brilliant, funny and moving show. Martin loved it, and he was excited to be playing the lead, and alongside someone he knew and trusted. 

That first rehearsal, in a pause between banter, he caught Douglas' eye and grinned, wide and genuine and giddy. Douglas, well-versed in the language of Martin, grinned back. 

=

“ _We are what we are, and what we are is an illusion.  
We love how it feels  
Putting on heels causing confusion.  
We face life though it's sometimes sweet and sometimes bitter;  
Face life, with a little guts and lots of glitter._”

Martin watched the ensemble members who were to be 'The Cagelles', the other performers and/or drag queens at Georges' club, sing through the opening number. Music practice had started now, and they were working through the big group numbers first. Their music director, Andy, was conducting with one hand and playing piano with the other, making sure they all had the right notes. Martin sat back with the rest of the cast that weren't in this number, lightly humming along.

A tap to his shoulder had him turning to his left. The actor playing Jean-Michel, whose name was Thomas, had leaned over to talk to him.

“Have you done a lot of theater before?”

Thomas was young, and had admitted to not having much theater experience, or singing experience in general. He was a bit shy, and as nervous as Martin on a bad day. He and Martin had managed to gravitate towards each other, already forming a bond that would be good for their roles as father and son. Martin grinned sheepishly at the question.

“Not since I was closer to your age, no.” He paused. “How old are you, anyway?”

Thomas laughed a little.

“I'm eighteen.”

On Martin's other side, Douglas huffed.

“Goodness, you really are young enough to be the son of both of us.”

Thomas smiled, starting to look nervous again. The young man was one of the youngest in the cast then. He glanced at Martin, seemingly seeking reassurance. Already, only a week or so in, he seemed to be looking up to Martin as a role model. Martin was trying his best to step up to the plate.

The Cagelles hit the last note of the song, a ringing belt, and Andy cut them off, a pleased smile on his face, before turning to the group of performers gathered on the floor. He beckoned Thomas, wanting to practice his solo next, as the young man was far more unsure of himself than the older cast members. Martin reached out and squeezed his shoulder, giving an encouraging smile. Thomas appeared to take strength from the gesture, and he stepped up to the piano. Martin couldn't help but feel a little proud, and for his own sake, he tried not to notice the approving way Douglas was looking at him.

 

=

 

“Who dares speak my name? _I_ , who have been so wronged.”

Douglas delivered his opening line loud, precisely articulated, and overly dramatic. The rest of the cast snickered loudly as Martin and Douglas worked through the dialogue of their first scene together. This had to be one of the most ridiculous scenes in the whole show, in Martin's opinion. Almost entirely made up of Albin dramatically lamenting to Georges, it was absolutely hilarious, further heightened by lines from the butler, Jacob. Martin had a hard time keeping a straight face like he was supposed to, and he thoroughly enjoyed watching Douglas ham it up. Hearing his normally suave first officer pitch his voice up in offense and cry out over a missed luncheon had him completely entertained. Then it got to the point where they were bickering over an old drama, and Albin was recalling his performance.

"And just what was wrong with my _Salome_?!"

Martin sighed deeply.

"Here we go."

"Audiences adored my Salome. I'll have you know, when I dropped the last veil, and I raised the head of John the Baptist to my lips, they cried out, tears in their eyes, handkerchiefs stuffed in their mouths!"

"But darling, audiences prefer laughing without stuffing their handkerchiefs in their mouth." Martin deadpanned. He continued,

"Albin my love, there comes a time in every Salome's life when she can no longer risk dropping the last veil."

The rest of the cast let out a low 'ohhhh', and Martin saw Douglas' lips twitch as he held back his laughter. Martin was only barely staying in character himself. Douglas then screwed his face into an expression of anguish and Martin wished he had a camera as Douglas turned his head away and declared: 

“Jacob, pack my gowns. We leave at sunrise!”

Martin made sure to clearly roll his eyes. Such a primadonna. As the scene progressed, though, he couldn't help but feel a sense of delight. Seeing Douglas so far out of his normal behavior, so far removed from the sky god, was refreshing to say the least. Though as the scene wrapped up, concluding with Georges declaring Albin had won, Douglas leaned in and muttered for only Martin to hear, “don't I always?”, and Martin felt entirely justified in smacking him on the arm.


	3. A Little More Mascara

A few days later, it was another read-through, though this time selective, as cast members were summoned to the backstage area for costume fittings. Martin and Douglas stood opposite the other, working on their first scene again. The director, James, had wanted them to get the pacing down right, and to get used to the banter enough to not break character and laugh, which they had periodically been doing. Martin held back his grin as Douglas lamented what Albin was seeing as a breach in their relationship. 

“What next?! Separate bedrooms?”

Martin was quickly learning to perfect his eye-roll.

Douglas strode forward as he kept on, as though addressing the audience, looking distressed.

“This is what happens when you fall in love with a younger man.”

“Darling, you know I'm only five years younger.”

“Eight.”

“Well, ten actually...”

“Alright, five.”

Their back-and-forth was snapped out quickly for comedic timing, although, the lines had actually been two, three, and four years, but due to Martin and Douglas being cast, James had asked if they minded the change, because it wasn't really believable otherwise. And despite this being musical theater, they did want a certain level of authenticity present. Martin had let Douglas answer, since it was more of a thing for him than Martin. Douglas, for his part, had only raised an eyebrow, grinned, and joked that ten years between them was either flattery to himself, or an insult to Martin, considering their actual gap of twenty years. Douglas was apparently unbothered, so Martin was as well.

Soon they were off again about _Salome_ , and Martin made a point of mimicking Douglas dramatically describing lifting the head of John the Baptist, which got laughter from the watching cast, and a look of amused approval from James. The scene ended with Georges exiting as Albin claimed his victory, and Douglas was quickly snatched up by the costume manager, Marie. As Douglas had the most costume changes, she wanted to get him measured and fitted as soon as possible. Martin watched him sweep out of the room, and absolutely was not staring at his backside.

=

Everything glittered. That was the conclusion Douglas came to regarding the costumes. Not literally everything, of course, but certainly most of the outfits sparkled in some way. Sequins and glitter and shiny material dominated the costume shop. He stood in the center of the brightly colored chaos, and let Marie tut and measure and plan. She had pulled all sorts of outfits from the costume storage, ready to be tried and tested by all the cast over the duration of the next week or so. Douglas looked over the rack containing his potential outfits and felt both excited and apprehensive. The outfits would be fun, but he wasn't sure he could pull some of them off. And the heels. Having seen the designs for the set, he just hoped he wouldn't end up breaking something. Then, Marie held a shirt out for him to try, and it was nearly an hour before she let him leave.

=

On the tail-end of their first scene of dialogue came Douglas' first song. If anyone had told Martin he'd ever hear Douglas singing about applying makeup, girdling his rear, and strapping on fake boobs, he's not sure what he would've done, but here he was. Douglas' voice soared over the music, reaching for notes he wouldn't typically even try for. That was one thing this show had taught Martin, that Douglas was actually a better singer than he had claimed. Not that Martin was all that shabby, if he did say so himself. He'd landed the lead opposite Douglas, after all. 

“ _So when it's cold and when it's bleak,_  
_I simply rouge the other cheek,_  
_For I can face another day_  
_In slipper satin lingerie._  
_To make depression disappear,_  
_I screw some rhinestones on my ear,_  
_And put my brooches and tiara,_  
_And a little more mascara on._ ”

 

The last 'on' was held for several measures, and Martin admired the way Douglas belted the note, clear and strong. Vocally, the song was challenging, but not completely out of Douglas' range, and he had worked hard to get every note right. The hardest part was actually the acting here. 

As he was singing about putting mascara on, he had to literally apply makeup and get himself ready. The makeup artist, a lovely young girl named Jamie, had sat him down and taught him how to use the assortment of brushes and powders and paints set out on the vanity. Martin had only caught a glimpse of the lesson (as he was being poked and prodded by Marie at the time) when Douglas had let out a low yelp. A quick glance told him that Douglas had poked himself in the eye with the mascara wand. Jamie only patted his shoulder sympathetically, and assured him that everyone who applied mascara did the same thing when they started.

Douglas wasn't the only one, either. Makeup tests had started as well as costumes, and Jamie was having fun painting up all the cast members. Martin was kind of thankful he only really needed basic makeup, since the application process for all the drag queens was a long one. The other men who were to be the Cagelles were tasked with learning how to apply their base makeup and then the rest would be done by Jamie. They could've done more, Martin supposed, but then there were several eyes poked with various pencils and brushes and such, and Jamie had quickly ordered they all come to her.

When she'd completely done all their faces up, they lined up in the green room, giggling and observing each other. James grinned, declaring them all 'beautiful' and 'perfect'. Douglas turned to face Martin, looking so utterly not himself, that Martin had to take a minute to drink it in. Bright eyeshadow, thick eyeliner, blush, and bright red lips. Douglas tilted his head questioningly.

“How do I look?”

Martin slapped his most charming Georges face on.

“Fabulous, darling.”

Douglas grinned, and Martin managed to keep the charming smirk going right up until Douglas leaned over and gave his cheek and exaggerated kiss, leaving a lipstick print that stayed for the rest of rehearsal.

=

Later in the week, Douglas spun around in a circle, letting the skirt of his knee-length dress flare out so Marie and James could approve. A sudden wolf whistle had him turning around to catch sight of one of the Cagelles beaming at him. Another one shot him a thumbs up, and he grinned. To be honest, the wardrobe made him feel...good.

Zaza, Albin's stage name, was fabulous, to say the least. To be Zaza, Douglas had padding on his rear, his hips, and of course, his chest. But the close-fitting outfits combined with the artificial curves made him look slim and, dare he say it, a little bit sexy. Tights and heels made him look even leaner, and the assortment of jewelry and wigs as well, and really, he was having fun. He'd had several compliments on his legs already, and while Martin hadn't said anything outright, he had given Douglas a long approving once-over. Very good, indeed.

There were some odd parts to this, of course. Douglas certainly wasn't used to wearing things so revealing, and being revealing meant he had had to shave. Face, chest, under the arms, and legs. The smoothness was...weird, at first, but he got used to it. James hadn't told him he needed to shave yet, but had suggested he get used to the feel before having to do it onstage. Douglas, wanting to get as comfortable as possible before they had an actual audience, agreed.

Meanwhile, Martin seemed to be growing facial hair. James wanted to try and make him look older, since Georges and Albin were supposed to have already been together twenty years. Since twenty years ago Martin was practically a teenager, anything to age him might be helpful. So far, it was working, though it was mostly peach fuzz at the moment.

There had been one odd moment, when Martin had walked into the dressing room he and Douglas shared (they had been moved to their own room, as they were taking up too much space). Douglas had been sat in his chair, absently running a hand up and down his leg, the look on his face saying he wasn't sure what to think of the smoothness he wasn't used to. Martin spent a moment simply staring, because as strange as it was, he could understand it too, but it still felt strange to walk in on. 

Douglas caught sight of him in the mirror, and froze. Martin tilted his head.

“Should I come back later?”

That had the desired effect of making Douglas laugh, and Martin dropped into his own chair, stroking his chin.

“I share the basic sentiment here.”

=

Suits and dresses, heels and flats, hats and hairbands. The costume shop looked like a storm had blown through, but Marie was walking around looking utterly satisfied. They had all the main pieces for everyone settled and ready to be laundered, adjusted, and set. Martin admired the outfits he would get to strut around in. Smoking jackets, tuxedos, waistcoats, and one very flamboyant shirt were a part of his wardrobe, and he really did like them. Douglas, on the other hand, had some rather fantastic dresses. And he spent most of the show in dresses. Nearly every outfit came with a different wig too, and Douglas had, amusingly enough, named them all. Apparently in his mind, it was a very Zaza thing to do, and Martin wondered if Douglas was getting a bit method in his acting. He'd already started calling everyone 'darling', and speaking in a higher-pitched voice. Then again, Martin was starting to do it too. He'd already unthinkingly responded to Douglas calling for him (' _Georges. Georges, darling, I need you_ ') with 'Coming, my love' just a moment ago. He'd almost managed to convince himself it was entirely acting.

“Zip me up? James wanted me to try walking around in a dress and heels.”

Martin nodded and pulled the zipper of the dress to the top. Douglas slipped the shoes on, and glanced at Martin, before doing a slight double take.

“What? What is it?”

Douglas grinned.

“Nothing, nothing, just...you're even shorter now.”

Martin rolled his eyes at the comment. He was well aware of how much taller Douglas was than him. He already had a good half a head over him, and the heels only heightened (no pun intended) the difference. Douglas's expression was edging into his ready-to-tease-Martin-until-he's-red face, so Martin nudged him towards the door. 

“Save the sass for the stage, Zaza.”

“Oh, believe me, I do.”

Martin just smiled, half-exasperated, half-fond, as Douglas sauntered out. As the door closed behind him, Douglas took a moment to simply pause and look around. Before him, the green room lay, milling with a few actors, in various states of dress. Most of the male cast identified on the LGBT+ spectrum in some way, and the rest were all wholly accepting and supportive. This theater was something of a sanctuary, in Douglas' opinion. And as he sank into the role of Albin, he found himself starting to maybe question his own identity. With every smile and casual touch and friendly joke and compliment, with all the approving looks he got every time he slipped into a dress, he thought that maybe, whatever he was didn't matter so much as getting there comfortably, like he already knew he could here. For now, he'd enjoy being someone else as sure of themself as Zaza, so he stood straight and strode forward, quietly singing.

“ _And ev'rything's ankle straps, Maribou, Shalimar!_  
_It's worth sucking in my gut, and girdling my rear._  
_'Cause ev'rything's ravishing, sensual, fabulous!_  
_When Albin is tucked away, and, ZaZa is here!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mentioned I was working on a production of La Cage Aux Folles. Let me tell you, it was very hard being in the theater today, as it was today that news broke about the shooting at the gay nightclub in Orlando. The tragedy of what happened in Orlando was so poignant to a cast that was mostly LGBT+, especially when we're telling a story about love and acceptance and happy endings. We see that so rarely for a gay couple in media, that giving this story to characters I identify far too closely with, was me trying to project my euphoria at this show's message into this other show I love. Having this happen is heart-wrenching, but my cast gave such a thrilling and moving performance, that I, like I always do when experiencing exceptional works of art, found my inspiration again. I know a fanfiction is a weird place to have a note like this, but I want you all to know that as I write this story, I'm putting a lot of personal stuff into it. I know where it's going to go, but I'm not sure how I'll get there, so please bear with me.


	4. With Anne on My Arm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this update took a while. I've been busy with a lot of things, including the production of La Cage I was working on. Sadly, it's over now, but hopefully it means more frequent updates. Also, as a note the name of the butler, Jacob, is pronounced like ZHA-cobe.

“And five, six, se-ven, eight. One, two, three, four. Five, six, seven, eight.”

Jake, the choreographer, counted the beats and watched with sharp eyes as the cast moved through the dance routine for one of the larger numbers in Act 1. At this point, Act 1 was fairly complete, movement-wise, and the actors all knew what they were doing, more or less, but they were making sure. Jake nodded his head and called out small corrections, encouraging but picky.

Douglas moved at the front of the pack, as Albin was leading the song. It was certainly different to be doing these steps in heels, though he had been steadily getting used to it. Jake had been pulling him aside and helping him perfect not just his dancing, but the basic movements on stage. Walking, gesturing, sitting, etc, were all done in ways that were very different from his own. Albin was flamboyant, plain and simple, and Douglas had been working hard on portraying that kind of a character. 

Swing the hips, walk lighter, arms floating, Douglas learned to make every movement deliberate and graceful. He'd started doing rehearsals in both heels and skirt, to get used to the unique type of movement he needed to do in nearly every scene. There had been a lot of walking back and forth across he stage, just to get his balance right, and it was a testament to both Jake and Douglas' skill that Douglas had picked it all up so well. 

Martin had also been working with Jake, though less so than Douglas. Georges was confident, smooth, suave, and charming. Jake had gotten Martin to perfect his walk as well, shoulders back and spine straight, and a sort of swagger to project the kind of man Georges was. The way he moved now combined with his new beard made Martin look far more captain-like than Douglas could ever recall seeing him. He had to admit, they made a good looking couple now.

The acting from onstage had made it's way to backstage as well, and not just in the Martin and Douglas. There were jokes about the increase in attitude among the male cast members, and the quips and sass had been steadily increasing in the green room. It was all in good fun, and there was a lot of laughter, but it was an environment neither pilot had really been a part of for extended periods of time before.

Martin had been around the more flamboyant type of gay men before, when he was younger, so for once he was the one more capable of simply rolling with things. Douglas, while initially surprised, had settled into it with delight, letting himself act more like Albin even when not doing a scene. It was the most fun he had in a long time, and the way Martin was integrated into this group, nothing like at the airfield, was refreshing to see. A confident and comfortable Martin was an attractive Martin, he had to admit. 

=

“Only seven minutes late. Not bad for the first show.”

Martin sighed, eyeing is watch. He had just stepped out to start a new scene as the last notes of 'A Little More Mascara' faded and Douglas strutted off with the Cagelles. Luke, the actor playing Jacob the butler, came shuffling towards him, dressed in a bright pink trenchcoat, sunhat and sunglasses. Martin's lips twitched, but he fought down the smile. It was the first time he had seen this outfit, and it was suitably hilarious for the scene.

“And who are we now? The _very_ Pink Panther?”

Luke, who had been moving with his back to Martin, bumped into him, and yelped loudly. Martin raised an eyebrow as Luke sniffed and drew himself up with as much attitude as he could muster.

“You be nice, or I'll run as fast as these feet can carry me and tell my mistress all about the special guest stashed in the kitchen.”

“You don't mean- He's here?!”

“Oh, he's here alright. Ah ah ah. Not so quick slick.”

Luke stopped Martin as he made to walk away. 

“Before I let you see him we will reiterate our bargain.”

Martin rolled his eyes.

“Go on.”

“I will keep my mouth shut about you-know-who being up here while keeping Albin away downstairs.” 

“And in return?” 

“You put me in the show.”

Martin exhaled loudly.

“For one number.”

“Agreed.”

“In the chorus.”

“They have not built a chorus strong enough to hold me.”

Martin rolled his eyes again as Luke excitedly delivered his parting lines and made a dramatic exit. Thomas came trotting out from the other side of the stage, grinning boyishly. Martin turned to greet him enthusiastically, pulling him into a hug. After a dialogue exchange between them that heavily implied Thomas was a young lover of Georges (something that had been part of Albin's lamenting alongside the luncheon and _Salome_ ), Martin leaned in to kiss Thomas on both his cheeks.

“My life, my love, my heaven.”

“Oh, Papa, can we save the dramatics for when Albin gets here?”

Martin pulled away as Luke skipped back on stage to greet Thomas. There was some banter before the butler was off again, and Martin turned back to his 'son'.

“No more holidays for you, I can't bear the stress."

“I won't be here long, Papa. I'm getting married.”

There was beat of heavy silence at that, before Martin tilted his head.

“You see this is what I love about you. You have something to say, you say it. No hemming, no hawing, clear, precise and right to the point. Like a dagger to the heart.”

“I was gonna send a telegram?”

Thomas offered up sheepishly.

“And miss the pleasure of seeing your father die before your eyes?"

Thomas hurried to explain, to placate, and the scene continued in much the same vein, as it was revealed that his fiancee was named Anne and her father was a politician, Deputy General Eduard Dindon, of the bigoted variety and would be coming to meet his parents the next day. Martin let himself become indignant, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Why would you want to marry into a family like that?!”

“Anne is nothing like her father, so there's nothing to worry about.”

“Except her father!”

“We'd better get to work. We should start by toning this place down a little, you know, ditch a few of the more obvious ironies.”

“And while we're ditching ironies, what's to become of me?”

“Oh, I took the liberty of telling them you were with the French Foreign Service. Retired, of course. Don't worry, I was very vague.”

Martin threw his hands up.

“Well, if you can't be truthful, be vague.”

Thomas wandered upstage, eyeing parts of the set.

“We'll use the house entrance...and we'll close off that door to the club.”

Martin made an exasperated noise.

“And who shall Albin be? French attache to Finnochio's?”

“Anything he'd like as long as he isn't here.”

Martin whirled and fixed Thomas with an incredulous stare, letting his expression speak for itself. Thomas at least looked apologetic.

“Papa, you know the way he is. The way he talks and moves and...dresses. You know.”

Martin delivered a sharp line about Jean-Michel turning on Albin after the man had raised him, huffing in offense. 

“Judas.”

“Papa.”

“Traitor”

“Papa-!”

“Heterosexual!”

“Papa, there's no one like Anne, I'd do anything for her.”

And with that, the dialogue led into the beginning music for the next song, this time a solo for Jean-Michel. Martin saw Thomas brace himself, pushing down his nerves.

_“When Anne comes running down the street,_  
_And I link my arm in hers,_  
_Girls have come and gone,_  
_Girls may come and go,_  
_But something very odd occurs, Papa._

_'Cause life is in perfect order with Anne on my arm._  
_It makes my shoulders broader with Anne on my arm._  
_Even when things won't gel, and the pieces won't fit,_  
_I'm suddenly in, I'm suddenly on, I'm suddenly "it".”_

 

The 'it' turned into a belt, and Martin watched admiringly as Thomas bounced around the stage, giddily declaring his love. He really was incredibly talented, Martin mused. His voice was strong and smooth, and he hit every note perfectly. He made a note to himself to tell Thomas as much later.

=

Jake nodded his head for Thomas and Luke to begin. There was a dance sequence between them in the middle of Thomas' solo, and they were refining the blocking on the actual stage. Jake wanted to keep it in tight to make sure the lights would hit them right, without looking too compact, and he had them go through the dance a few times to get it right. 

Martin grinned from where he was watching as Thomas actually picked Luke up at one point, spinning him around. Impressive, seeing as Luke was much taller, but Thomas was stronger than he looked. It reminded Martin of a dance sequence between himself and Douglas that came later in the show. This whole show seemed to take the usual dynamics and twist them all over the place, which was nice.

As Thomas and Luke finished, and Jake approved, they walked off, and Martin was beckoned back on stage. A call for Douglas was sent out, and he came gliding out from stage left, heels on and Martin grinned.

“Yes, darlings?”

Martin snorted and Douglas glanced at him, but Martin just shook his head with a smile. Jake asked them to go through the dance they had together, as he was just running through the smaller dance sequences right now. Martin and Douglas nodded, getting into position. Martin held out his hand, and Douglas daintily took it, and off they went.

=

Once again, Jean-Michel's song was playing and Thomas was doing his thing, getting a little more sure of himself with each rehearsal. 

_“Life is a celebration with Anne on my arm.”_

Here, Martin interjected his own lines.

_“Since girls and sex are his credo.”_

_“Walking's a new sensation with Anne on my arm.”_

_“Thank god he's got my libido.”_

Martin glanced out into the 'audience', which was only fellow actors at this point, and caught the expression on Douglas' face at his line. It was that insufferable look he got when he had just been given something to tease Martin about. Martin shot him a sharp glare, a warning look that had only started working sometime around St. Petersburg. Douglas laughed, but subsided and Martin went back to the scene.

_“Each time I face a morning that's boring and bland,  
With her it looks good,” _

_“He's fanning another flame, his rhetoric is the same.”_

Martin made an exasperated face as Thomas practically skipped around him.

_“It's grand!”_

_“It's only the name that changes!”_

Even as Martin sung his line under Thomas', he couldn't help but once more admire Thomas' talent. The last word turned into a soaring note that swept out into theater, and one of the cast members whooped in appreciation.

_“Somehow she's put a permanent star in my eye.”_

_“But after all, he's a great kid.”_

_“Even the dead of winter can feel like July!”_

_“So full of charm for a straight kid.”_

_“We start a conflagration that's cause for alarm.  
We're giving off sparks”_

_“If there's a chance they'll be_  
_just like Albin and me..._  
_then maybe it's Anne.”_

_“Then maybe it's Anne!”_

_“Then maybe it's Anne.”_

_“Then maybe it's Anne!”_

Here the dance interlude came, and Luke eagerly stepped in to start the dance. Martin settled himself on a couch on the other side of the stage to watch it once more.

=

The props manager of the show, Claudia, was an older woman, who had shown up a few weeks in, and started bustling around the theater and theater storage, hunting for any props she could use for the show. So far, she had managed to find most of what she needed, though there had been some borrowing from other cast and crew members. Cast members were also encouraged to bring in whatever they could to help.

Considering all the scene changes and the things needed to populate the set, it was amazing to watch this woman efficiently organize it all, scene by scene, and character by character. Martin and Douglas and the rest of the cast had all been given a number of props to keep track of themselves, and Martin had designated a corner of their dressing room for their pieces. Douglas had significantly more than Martin, especially accessories, but it was very fun to finally have physical objects to be carried on stage and used in the scenes.

Though the sheer amount of wine and champagne glasses, plus a whip, sitting on the prop table, made him raise an amused eyebrow. 

 

=

The choreography for both acts of the show was nearly at the point of performance-level. At this point, it was mostly just polishing it up, and getting the male actors used to the heels and their costumes. Douglas was now rehearsing in nearly full costume, and Martin appreciated the sight, both for how good he looked, and how impressively smooth he was in heels now. 

The Cagelles also rehearsed in their dresses and heels now, and Martin felt a little bit envious of their coordination. They were running through a big number again, this time focusing on the Cagelles' bit, where there was an interlude in the singing. Martin found himself impressed with the ability of the dancers. Most of them weren't professional dancers, or hadn't had much training, but they were good. Only the dance captain of the show had had serious training, but the rest kept up enough that it wasn't obvious. This entire cast was full of such talent, and Martin felt lucky to be a part of it. And as Douglas strode out in another dress, this time with his legs on display, he felt lucky for another reason entirely.

=

_“Who else can make me feel like I'm handsome and tall?_  
_Who else can make me feel I'm on top of it all?_  
_I found a combination that works like a charm:_  
_I'm simply a man who walks on the stars,_  
_Whenever it's Anne on my arm!”_

Thomas dropped onto the couch where Martin was sitting, still grinning big. He finished his song, successful again, and the light applause from the couple of people sitting in the audience made him grin. Martin wondered how he'd react to the full applause he'd surely get when they opened.

Still, he continued with the scene, conceding to Jean-Michel's argument, but Thomas went on. 

“One more thing.”

Martin groaned.

“I beg you, no more things.”

The one more thing turned out to be a request for Jean-Michel's mother, Sybil, to be called. She hadn't been around at all, but Jean-Michel was seeking to leave a good impression with the Dindons, and a father and a mother apparently was part of that. Martin sighed deeply and Thomas grinned sheepishly.

“I love you.”

“You had better. Now who breaks all of this wonderful news to Albin?”

Thomas opened his mouth to answer, but the sound of a door abruptly opening interrupted.

“Wedding bells?! Is someone tolling wedding bells?”

Martin sighed and Thomas closed his eyes in frustration.

“Jacob strikes again.”

Douglas made his way down to where they were.

“What have we raised, Georges? An animal? Snakes live male and female, cats live male and female. We are human beings. We know better.”

He directed this out to the audience, but then turned to Thomas, walking towards him.

“Child child child. You are a boy, she is a girl. What would you talk about?”

Martin stepped up behind Douglas, laying a hand on Douglas' back, but addressing Thomas.

“There's no reasoning with him when he's like this. Run.”

Thomas had a look of frustration mixed with resignation on his face.

“I love her, Albin.”

Douglas pulled a face.

“I love women too, but I wouldn't marry one.”

Martin held back a snort as he remembered the look on Douglas' face the first time he recited that line. Douglas kept on, before he started fussing over how thin Jean-Michel was, sending him to the kitchen for food. Thomas tried to appeal to him, but eventually gave up, letting Martin's assurance that he'd talk to him send him off. Thomas exited the scene, and Douglas made his way to the couch, settling himself on the seat with a deep sigh.

“Oh Georges, our baby is getting married. Where did we go wrong?”

“Now now, my love. We've been through worse, we'll get through this.”

Martin comforted Douglas, seating himself beside him, as Douglas pouted. There was a call from the audience, and both Martin and Douglas looked up as James stepped onto the stage. He was smiling, but he wanted to run Douglas' entrance again, just to be sure. Douglas patted Martin's shoulder and moved back to behind the door. Martin watched him go, smiled, and stood to meet Thomas as he returned.

=

There was a brief lunch break, and everyone gathered in the green room. Martin made his way towards Thomas, clapping him on the back.

“Fantastic job on that song today.”

Thomas beamed. 

“Thanks, I was really nervous about it, but James told me I could do it, and Andy said so too, so it's nice to see they were right.”

“They absolutely were.”

Martin gave his most encouraging smile. Thomas had a certain lack of confidence that reminded Martin of himself, and he made a point of complimenting the young man whenever he could. Thomas flushed a bit at the praise, but he looked very happy, so Martin went on.

“You are very talented, you know that?”

“Thank you, Martin.”

Martin simply smiled and gave Thomas' shoulder a squeeze.

“Now go get yourself some food. You need and deserve it.”

Thomas laughed at that, and walked off to the table.

“Yes, Papa.”

Martin grinned to himself, utterly pleased, and turned to get something to drink. As he dug a bottle of water out of the fridge, Douglas appeared at his side.

“You're good with him, you know?”

“Hmm?”

“Thomas. You're very good with him. Almost like an actual father.”

Martin flushed red, suddenly embarrassed about it.

“I'm just, I'm just trying to be encouraging.”

“Precisely.”

Martin, in an effort to ease his own embarrassment, changed the subject.

“Speaking of children, how's Emily? You were with her this past weekend, right?”

Douglas' face immediately shifted to the warm, happy look he always got when talking about his daughter. 

“Oh she's wonderful. Bit of the usual teenage drama, now that she's fifteen, but she's doing well in school. She complains about maths, but otherwise, it's all good.”

“That's good. Did you tell her about the show?”

“I did mention it, yes.”

“What did she think?”

Douglas' expression became something of a mix between grateful and delighted, as he grinned widely.

“She heard it was a musical and what it was about and _demanded_ to be allowed to come opening night.”

Martin's heart warmed at the look on Douglas' face, and the knowledge of how much it meant to Douglas that Emily wanted to come see him.

“That's wonderful, Douglas! So we'll be seeing her then?”

“Yes. I'm just thankful her mother is who she is. Lord knows, neither of my other two ex-wives would be all for a musical I'm in, especially this one.”

Martin remembered the woman, Elizabeth, as being a kind and loving person, and he remembered Helena, and couldn't help but agree with Douglas. Douglas had a point about the musical's content as well. A gay couple, drag queens....Martin quietly thanked god that Elizabeth was Emily's mother, if only for Douglas' sake.

“I hope she likes the show, then.”

“As do I.”

There was a note of trepidation in Douglas' voice, even if the delight was still there, so Martin, in an uncharacteristic move, wrapped an arm around Douglas' waist and gave him a one-armed hug. 

“I'm sure she will.”

Douglas seemed startled for a second, before he returned the gesture, pleasantly surprised, and they stayed like that until James called everyone back to the stage.


End file.
